


Don't Need the Rain

by starwarned



Series: Carry On Countdown 2020 [8]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, COC 2020, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown 2020, Carry On Countdown 2020 (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown Day 8, CoC, DAY 8 - Rain, M/M, Rain, Vampire Bullshit, but then it's all okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27653425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: Carry On Countdown Day 8 - Rain“I wished it was raining," he said."I don't need the rain," I said. "I need you.” - Benjamin Alire SáenzSimon and Baz go on a drive. Simon isn't looking forward to it.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026942
Kudos: 44
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	Don't Need the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> hello hi another coc coming at you. come follow me on [tumbles](snowybank.tumblr.com) if you so desire

I always feel like the main character in a sad, coming-of-age film when I stare out the window of a car when it’s raining. 

Of course, I’m not the main character now. 

Perhaps I could have argued that point when I had magic. When I was the Chosen One, the Mage’s Heir, the most powerful wizard anyone had ever seen. 

Now? Now I’m just a boy with wings spelled out of sight, leaning my forehead against the car window and trying not to cry as his boyfriend considers breaking up with him. 

That’s where this is going, I’m sure of it. 

Baz has been antsy all day. He can barely look me in the eye. Typically, Baz appears at our flat at 4:00 sharp once his classes for the day have finished, but today, he showed up, out of breath and flustered, at half past five. No explanation. Even when I asked (and I usually try not to ask). 

He barely kissed me. 

I know I’m not the ideal partner in terms of romance or sexual intimacy. Baz and I snog and touch each other from the waist up, but we haven’t gone further than that. Which I really thought was fine and something that would hopefully get more comfortable over time - Baz doesn’t seem bothered by it for the most part. (He’s let out that I’m a good kisser on more than one occasion and immediately seems flustered when he says it, so I thought that was a good sign.) 

I tried to kiss him when he came inside. He kissed me for maybe three seconds before pushing me off and rushing to the kitchen to make himself some tea. 

I really tried not to think about it. I’m not nearly as good at ignoring things I don’t want to think about as I used to be. Maybe it’s the loss of a drive - the loss of something greater than me that I was striving to accomplish. Now all I have is the sinking feeling of failure tugging at my heart and tugging at my eyes and at my brain. 

Baz is playing Frank Ocean on the radio. He skips to the next song. I catch a glimpse of his lovely fingers when he does so. And I can’t possibly shut these thoughts of everything I love about Baz down. His fingers, his lovely soft hair that he takes impeccable care of, his grey-pink mouth that is always several degrees cooler than mine, his slightly bent nose that I still feel a bit bad about when I look at it for too long. 

I turn my head enough that I can see him now. Just his side profile (which is arguably just as lovely as looking at him head-on. He’s lovely at every angle.) 

Baz asked me if I wanted to go for a drive. I should have been more aware of the signs before I said yes. 

Now we’re here and the car is the best place for him to corner me into a conversation about _our relationship_ because I can’t get out while we’re still on the motorway. (Maybe if I opened the door and somehow got my wings out as well, I could fly off. I’d cause quite a few accidents.) 

“Where are we going?” I dare to ask, my voice softer and raspier than I would have hoped. 

“Have some patience, Snow,” Baz says simply. He doesn’t look at me. 

I’m especially considering opening the car door now. 

Would it really be so bad if I just rolled off onto the side of the road? I’ve been through worse. And it has to be better than this. 

Before I can really figure out the logistics of leaping out of a moving vehicle, Baz takes the nearest exit. I don’t recognize the area we’re in, but then again, I haven’t been paying attention to the path that Baz has chosen. I’ve been too busy staring out the window and counting the raindrops on the pane and preparing for the inevitable worst conversation of my life. 

“Simon,” Baz says, and I realize that we’ve stopped. 

I lean my head off the window and wipe my cheek where a few tears fell without permission. I look at Baz. 

He stifles a laugh and reaches up to touch my forehead. “Did you have to lean against the window for the whole ride?” he says teasingly. “You’ve got a mark right here.” 

I blush. “Sorry,” I say. 

“No need,” Baz insists. “You have nothing to apologize for. It’s cute.” 

I feel like I’m getting whiplashed back and forth. Moments ago, I could have sworn that Baz was driving off into the middle of nowhere to break up with me and dump me there. (I have wings. It wouldn’t have been that bad if he did that.) 

But, now. Now he’s looking at me like he’s actually soft on his half-dragon fuck up of a boyfriend and it’s sending me into a mental spiral. 

“Why are we out here, Baz?” I ask. 

“I wanted to talk.” 

_There it is._

“Oh?” I say, trying to keep my voice level. It’s not working that well. 

“You know that thing you brought up the other day.” 

I wait for him to continue. I’m trying not to get ahead of myself. 

Baz looks down at his lap where he’s got his hands clasped tightly. “Well,” he says. And when he looks back up at me, I recognize this as a conversation that he’s previously rehearsed. Rehearsed exactly how he’s going to say this to me. (It hurts to think about it like that.) “A few weeks ago, you mentioned me… Turning you.” 

My eyes go wide. I suppose I’m absolute shit at reading Baz because this is _not_ where I thought this was going at all. “Right,” I say slowly. 

Baz nods at me. “I- I’m ready to discuss it.” 

I gape at him. “Why didn’t we just have this discussion in my flat? In my bed?” The fact that I could have been kissing him while having this conversation is not lost on me. 

“I thought this would be easier,” he says. 

I feel my face break into a nervous smile. I’m not going to tell him what I thought was happening because I’m terrified that will put it into his head. “Oh,” I say. 

“So?” 

“So, what?” 

“Well,” Baz starts. “Do you want to have that conversation?” 

I let myself really smile now. “You could Turn me right now, Baz, and I’d be happy. Of course I’ll have the conversation.” 

Baz smiles back and reaches across the console (breaking the tension that was killing me inside) to grab my hand. “Thank you.” 

“I could have done without the angsty car ride in the rain and the moody Frank Ocean soundtrack.”

“What can I say? I love the-”

“Yes, Basilton, I know drama is your one true love.” 

“Aside from you, of course.” 

I blush and mumble back, “Sure, aside from me.” 

He leans across the center console and kisses me. The rain has stopped now.


End file.
